


Aftermath II

by Silverheart



Series: Bats and Birds [11]
Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverheart/pseuds/Silverheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim wakes up in the hospital after Scarecrow shot him. Barbara gives him the news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath II

Tim opened his eyes. Everything was bit…fuzzy. Ah, pain meds, right. He’d been shot. 

He looked blearily around the hospital and tried to make his brain piece everything together. 

Bruce…shackled down, hostage. Scarecrow, the shot…he’d passed out, then. Bruce must have brought him here, after he’d gotten out. Or someone else had gotten him out. It was all academic; the result was that he was in the hospital with an IV in his arm and a lot of bandages on his chest.

“Tim.”

He turned his head over to see… _her_. “Barb?” he asked, confused, “So did I die after all?”

She laughed weakly and moved closer. There were tears in her eyes. “No. They dug a bullet out of your chest a day ago. You should still be out.”

“What can I say, I’m tough.” He lifted his not-IV’d hand to touch her cheek. She was real. She was alive. “Bruce told me you died. That Scarecrow killed you.”

She clutched his hand to her cheek. Fresh tears began running over his fingers. “He tricked Bruce. Then he tried to kill me, later…you know how it goes.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. No glasses today. Her hair hung wild around her face. “What’s the matter?”

“Bruce is dead.”

Tim locked up, trying to…why couldn’t his head be clearer? “What?”

“Scarecrow made my dad pull his cowl off on TV, and everyone saw.”

Tim shut his eyes, feeling tears well up. “So Bruce lost.”

“No, he won, just…the mansion exploded, when he went back. Just…gone. Him and Alfred and everything. All gone. Alfred is dead. Bruce is dead.”

Bruce couldn’t be dead. The man was indestructible, a force of nature. He dodged death as a matter of course. “He can’t be dead. Alfred…Alfred can’t be dead. They can’t be dead.”

“I know. I keep saying that, too.” She squeezed his hand gently. “There isn’t even a single piece of rubble bigger then my fist left. The Batcave is just dust.”

“And everyone knows.”

“Not about us. My dad’s the only one.”

Tim nodded. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He was glad there was only Barb here to see. “He can’t be dead.” The man who’d he admired, fought with, been saved by, tried to save, the man who had transformed his life into something more…he was dead. 

“I know.” She rolled forward and put her arms around him gently. “He can’t be gone.”

_Bruce was dead._

Carefully, groggily, he pulled her up onto the bed. She shifted herself around and laid her head on his shoulder, careful to avoid his bandages. 

_Bruce was dead._

He buried his face in her hair and wept.

He must have drifted out, because when he came to she was tracing the edge of his bandage like she had been at it for a long time. He watched her for a while. 

“What now?” she asked.

He tried to shrug, found it impossible. “I don’t know.”

“Me neither.” She stopped tracing the bandage and looked at him. “You once told me robins were good luck.”

He remembered that. A lifetime ago. So many bad things hadn’t happened yet. “You’re alive. He told me…” He choked on the memory, the last words the man had ever said to him. “I didn’t think you were alive. That’s luck enough for me, especially now.” He held her as tightly as he could, which wasn’t much. “I sat in that cell for hours, thinking about how every moment was a world without you in it. It was hell.”

She ran a hand through his short hair. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes began to drift shut. “’s not your fault. Just…life would mean so much less without…”

“Don’t get too sappy on me.”

He threaded a hand through her hair. _Bruce was dead_. Alfred was dead. The Manor was gone. And here they were, still alive. “We’ll worry about it all as it happens, maybe?”

She kissed him on the forehead as he gave in and shut his eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered, “Yeah, I like that.”


End file.
